As We Lay Dying
by Gutterflowery
Summary: His blood can save her, but what face will she make when her eyes reopen? Sylar/Elle one-shot, an alternate ending to episode 311, because that just SUCKED.


**Disclaimer: **If I owned _Heroes_, I wouldn't be making it up as I go like SOMEONE (coughKRINGcough).  
**  
Note:**

Ha! I rewrote this so it actually IS a one-shot. Here it is. The original story, with no updates and no pregnant Elle (sorry). Maybe I'll post something else for the 'Elle is Noah's Grey's mommy' theory...

We all agree: my version is better, Tim Kring sucks for ruining Syelle, and she'll most likely be back next episode. Either way, Heroes has died. I knew it was coming, I don't know about you all...

Thanks to everyone who read this and to everyone who faved, alerted, and reviewed. I'm glad you like my writing, and I hope you'll read whatever I post next.

Spoilers for the end of episode 311. Pairing is...SYELLE (what a shock)!

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_Tomorrow whispers fleeting lies  
Yesterday looks away and sighs  
While today stays a waste of time  
As I become what I am not  
As we lay dying_

-As We Lay Dying, **Cradle to Grave**

**-  
**

**As We Lay Dying**

Gabriel Grey, now Sylar again, easily lifted himself from atop the dead body, formerly known as Elle Bishop. They'd been in a daze during the eclipse, thoughts muddled with confusion, uncertainty, and something else that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

_Love._

Where had that voice come from?

He shook it away, looking around to see if Peter was somewhere, sending thoughts into his mind. Then he remembered: Arthur had Peter's powers. So he looked for his...father.

Was Arthur Petrelli his father? Had he and Angela lied this whole time? Then what had he been trying to do? Of course, Arthur hadn't lied about the Empathy. Not entirely. But he still had the Hunger. That was why he'd killed Elle. After all, he had her power.

Staring into her now-glassy eyes, he felt a pang in his stomach, inside his ribcage.

_Guilt._

Oh, great. The voice was back. Where had it come from? Sylar didn't _have_ a conscience. He was a villain. Bad. Evil. He'd just killed Elle, only hours after they'd shared a bed, secrets, powers, and understanding.

Or as much understanding as a power-hungry serial killer and a electricity-wielding, sadistic shut-in could have.

He let the electricity surge, creating a tiny ball in his hands. He could feel something different about the power, something he hadn't gotten in the exchange. But maybe it was just the kill.

The ache remained, and he looked back down into her face, the whimpers she'd made as he sliced into her skull forever imprinted on her pretty face, her blond hair caked with blood.

Blood.

Of course.

His blood, little Claire's blood, Peter Petrelli's blood, now Arthur's, he reminded himself again. The blood of the catalyst. The healing blood.

He could use it to save her.

Using his powers, they worked so much more efficiently than a knife, he slit his wrist and kept the wound open, blood flowing into her half-open, twisted mouth. Slowly, her skin turned pink again. Blood pumping. With his hyper-hearing, he heard when her heart began to beat again. And even without that power, he heard her gasp, choke on the blood, and struggle to breathe.

Her eyes were blue again.

After she'd coughed up what she hadn't swallowed of the blood, she glared up at him. "Y-you were going to bring me back?" She asked, feeling the section of her forehead that he'd cut away. There wasn't a scar, but her fingers came away red with blood.

He pulled off what was left of his shirt and wiped the blood from her face, gently.

Once he was done, she let loose a stream of lightning, straight into chest.

He screamed. She looked down at her hand in surprise, as though she hadn't thought her power remained after he'd taken it for himself. She sighed with relief and backed away from him, until her back hit an expanse of rock. "Stay over there." She hissed.

"I won't hurt you, Elle." He sighed. "I already have your power."

"Didn't stop you," She retorted, crossing her arms over her chest and rubbing her shoulders. She was only wearing a t-shirt and pants, and she'd just been dead. It was _cold_.

He sat across from her, crossing his legs. "Then we'll stay here until you'll trust me."

She shook her head and refused to look at him. "Why don't you just leave?" She snapped. "I can find my way back on my own."

"I won't just leave you here," He replied with a wry smile.

Elle shifted, curled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. She played with her pant-legs, rubbed the suede fuzz on her shoes, pushed her hair behind her ears, and mussed it loose again.

Sylar was getting impatient. "You said you wanted to start over."

She glared. "I thought I was..." She pretended to think, "damaged goods?"

He nodded, and chuckled darkly. "So am I, Elle..." He told her. "So am I."

**End.**

I know, we all wish I'd have kept it a multi-shot...but it was bugging me for a rewrite...that's what I do once everything's outlined.

As I mentioned in the original version, I had a "What. The. Fuck?!" moment when Sylar "killed" Elle (we don't really know for sure what happened), because it was out of character and a HORRIBLE plot twist.

Thanks again for reading and putting up with my perfectionist attitude towards writing,

-Schoolgirl of Doom


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